We don’t realize a lot of what’s going on, what we’re doing, what’s truly happening when the loop of our lives constricts to a noose. Locked in place, there’s no other destination but down. Panicked, confused, an anxious metabolism wrecks everything, starting within. Disrupting and destroying all systems in place. Grinding everything and all until all is but a waste of what was. Nothing reflects, all around you’re suspended in mist. Everything that has been and could be existing without a will to both be buried and birthed. Lost is the woman to be.
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